Holiday Drear
by Honest Hitchhiker
Summary: There was a reason why Rude didn't enjoy the holidays, but Reno hopes to change that. Friendship. Slight Rude x Chelsea. Partial Reno PoV. Mentioning of Before Crisis events.


The dead grasses were covered in an exquisite quilt of pure white snow, and two men clad in suits stood calmly, watching the flakes of coldness drift on the winds. The chilly air of winter nipped against the two Turks' faces, and the red-haired man gave a yelp of surprise in response.

"Oh man, Rude," Reno spoke with a shiver, "it's pretty damn cold." With his statement of the obvious, he dangled a cigarette from his lips, lighting it with a muttered spell. "Hey, so what're you doing for the holidays, partner?" Immediately after the sentence left his lips, Reno's eyes widened at his mistake. "I mean, ah, I'm sorry."

"Mm." Rude's eyes met the ground through the shield of his sunglasses. "It's fine." He brought his head up with a sigh, meeting the shorter man's gaze. "I should get over it already. It's been years."

"Poor lovesick Rude," Reno spoke with a drag of his cigarette, but honest sympathy could be sensed in his voice. "God, life's such a bitch, huh? I'm sorry for ya, man."

"Yeah." Rude paused slightly, watching the snowflakes continue their voyage to the ground beneath them. "I'm sorry, too. I should have known… and if it wasn't for you–"

"Nah, man!" the redhead interjected excitedly, "I always got yer back! That's what partners are for, yo." Reno smiled warmly, feeling quite pleased with his do-good actions, even if they were brought about by snooping.

"Thanks." Reno could have sworn something comparable to a smile appeared on Rude's lips for a split second. "I guess I have no luck when it comes to love. I'm always falling for the enemies."

"C'mon, Rude, don't get all mopey on me, man. You're a total stud, yo, and I think you should chase your dreams, even if it means defectin' from Shinra." Reno grinned sarcastically, knowing that leaving Shinra would never be an option to the bald Turk.

"Yeah. Thanks." Rude's own variation of sarcasm laced his response, making their execution feel like sharp knives.

Reno giggled in response, as he had gotten used to his partner's mannerisms over their years of comradeship. "Yeah, well," Reno began, tossing his cigarette to the icy ground, "I think I'm gonna head back to my place. Later!"

With nimble footsteps upon the snow-covered ground, Reno was gone, leaving Rude to his thoughts as the wind continued its chilling breaths.

-

Reno bounded into his apartment with springing footsteps, immediately ridding himself of his soaked blazer by tossing it to the wooden floor. He also kicked off his damp boots, and he landed on his couch with a satisfied sound of relief.

His blue eyes slid closed lazily as memories washed through his mind with images of his partner and the reason he didn't enjoy Christmas.

-

We were so young back then, and my hands weren't nearly as stained with human blood as they are now. And perhaps I was a little too rambunctious, and a little too excited to do the dirty work that I thought would make me into a real man.

It was in those days that I first got my callow hands on a copter, and let me tell you, it was love at first sight. Nothing warms my soul like flying around in the air, looking at all the bodies beneath me scurrying like frenzied ants.

It was also in those days that I was paired up with the stoic bald guy known as Rude. At first I raged a bit because, man, I needed a lackey who would laugh at all my jokes and give me the praise I wanted. But I eventually wised up, and I grew to like the guy. At least he would listen to me when anyone else would tell me to shut up.

And, well, there was a time when he changed a bit. He seemed happier, at least outwardly. I don't think I've ever seen him smile as much since then. The rest of the Turks noticed too, and Rude was always long gone the second after his shift was over. This kinda got to me, cuz we had usual drinking nights that he totally blew off.

So, being the Turks we were, we checked up on him. Some of us were expecting something juicily unsavory, like drugs or a double life as a tranny. Okay, so that last suggestion was mine, and needless to say, I was disappointed when it just turned out to be some chick that had ensnared our silent comrade.

But, something still got to me. Call it my intuition or what have you, but I could definitely tell something fishy was going on. And, lo and behold, I saw Rude's little girlfriend messing around with his phone when he left her for a second. I stuck around in my hiding spot, and I heard their plans to see the Christmas tree light up in a few days. If I hadn't seen the broad messing with my partner's belongings only moments earlier, I might have thought it was cute.

But I had seen her, so the feeling of "oh, cute" was nary a possibility. Being the sneaky bastard I am, I followed her. In some dark crevice of my heart, I was hoping that I wouldn't find anything. Happy Rude was something that didn't come around often, and I didn't think he deserved anything less than joy.

Life's a bitch, though. The chick turned out to be a spy for Avalanche. And, get a load of this, she wiretapped her beau's, _my partner's_ phone! Some things really bother me, and disloyalty is way atop the list. If you wanna get a taste of ass-whooping from me, go ahead and be a backstabbing piece of shit.

I didn't want to tell Rude though, because god, I knew it would break his quiet little heart, as well as strip him of his goddamn manhood. One foolproof way of castrating a guy while simultaneously shitting on his dignity is telling him that his girlfriend is a spy.

And the day came that they were supposed to see the tree light up, the twenty-fourth of December, Christmas Eve for Christ's sake. It's supposed to be a day of happy-dappy frolicking with little kids making wishes for craploads of toys that Santa would conveniently forget, definitely not a day to hear, "Hey, dude, that girl you're banging? Yeah, she's a spy."

But alas, life shows her essence of bitchiness even on holidays. The chick, Chelsea was her name, decided to dump Rude with the cliché of the impossibility of love between enemies.

I thank whatever deity who sits around in the sky that it wasn't me who had to break the news to Rude.

Ever since then, though, Rude sinks into a depression during the holidays. It's pretty ironic, but considering his situation, it's understandable. I just wish I could help the guy, but emotional issues with the possibility of man tears have never been my forte.

So instead, I think I'll just sleep here, and I'll let concerns and worries take a rain check.

-

It was Christmas Eve, and Rude had subjected himself to drinking solitarily with a faded picture of Chelsea beside him. It was his fate every year, and he hadn't expected his lonesome tradition to be interrupted.

However, lively knocks sounded on his door with rapid intensity, and Rude slowly rose to answer it. A hopeless piece of his heart wanted it to be his forsaken love, but his desire disappeared when he opened the door to an enthusiastic Reno with an almost maniacal smile.

The redhead was dressed in a heavy red and green sweater with a thick red scarf adorned with snowflakes. A Santa hat was worn upon his head, its color seamlessly blending with the man's tresses. In his hands rested a small, rectangular package wrapped in paper decorated with grinning snowmen.

Before Rude had a chance to speak, Reno shouted, "Happy holidays, Rude! I got you a present, and you better like it!" Reno walked into Rude's apartment without a word of invitation, pushing the package into his partner's hands.

The bald Turk stood silently for a few moments, looking to Reno with a dumbfounded expression. The redhead's expectant gaze clearly said, "Open the present already!" so Rude obliged with careful fingers.

"Dude, do you have to be a perfectionist with _everything?_" Reno spoke exasperatedly, watching Rude's fingers diligently work on preserving the wrapping paper with expert concentration.

The taller Turk had finally removed the paper without a single tear, and he hesitated slightly before removing the lid from the box of his gift. When he did lift the top, he gave an almost silent gasp, but Reno managed to hear it, giving a wide smile in return.

In the box was a beautifully-crafted pair of sunglasses encrusted with stunning pieces of Materia. Still grinning, Reno removed the pair of sunglasses his partner was currently wearing, and swiftly replaced them with the new pair.

"They're designer, yo," Reno spoke cheerfully, but his attention soon shifted to the cans of beer he spotted. "Aw, hey, partner, you're drinkin' without me?!" Reno glided into Rude's kitchen agilely for his own share of alcohol.

As Reno left the room, Rude noticed a small card tucked into the box, almost unnoticeably. He curiously removed the card, opening it with his characterestic delicateness.

_Dear Rude,_ it read, scrawled in Reno's unmistakable handwriting, _Bitches come and go, but a partner like me is for life. Don't beat yourself up over the stupidity of some chick who obviously didn't realize that she had the most amazing guy she could ask for. Christmas is a time for smiles, and I hope I gave you one, yo. Enjoy the shades; they can only be pulled off by the sharpest of bad asses, which would be you, my friend. Your Partner, Reno._

Rude grinned as he headed to the kitchen, filled with the holiday spirit that had neglected him for years.


End file.
